All that lies between you and me
by beforeandafter
Summary: AU. Wally has never been the most self-sacrificing of people. He has never been the type of person to back down from anything. But this time he has to, or risk the chance there might not be any other way to end this. So he lets everyone think he is gone. And it is the hardest thing he has, or will have to ever do. Companion to: Goodbye, until we meet again, but can be read alone.


**All that lies between you and me**

Word count: 4,212

Characters: Wally West, Batman, the team, Artemis Crock

Pairings: Wally/Artemis

Summary: Wally has never been the most self-sacrificing of people. He has never been the type of person to back down from anything. But this time, this time he has to, or risk the chance there might not be any other way to end this. So he lets everyone think he is gone. And it is the hardest thing he has, or will have to ever do.

Disclaimer: I don't own Young Justice or any related characters or ideas.

* * *

_Confess to me every secret moment,_

_Every stolen promise you believe,_

_Confess to me, all that lies between us,_

_All that lies between you and me. _

-Pictures of you, the last goodnight.

* * *

He feels like crap. There are better words to describe how he feels but between the pounding headache and the sharp pains above his heart and the Dark Knight digging in his chest, he really can't be bothered to search his vocabulary for one. Batman had given him a shot of morphine before he had started to dig around to remove the bullet but his stupid metabolism had flushed it out of his system annoyingly too fast, and he now has to bite down on a piece of metal.

Good thing for him, Batman is practiced at stitching and on the job surgery, so the process is being done relatively quickly. But as usual nowhere near fast enough for him. Wally tries to relax and against his will his eyes flicker close, drowsiness seeping in, momentarily dulling the pain. He can see her, rising above him as he fell. Arm outstretched as if she had been trying to reach for him though none of her other muscles had moved. Her grey eyes wide and alarming dark in the night and her hair so bright, contrasting against the blackness.

If he was an emotionally lose person he would have said she had looked beautiful but she hadn't, not with the expression she had had painted on her face, full mouth open in a soundless scream of his name. She had looked as if she had been staring at a personification of hell. He doesn't like that she had been looking at him like that. He doesn't like that he had been the one to put that expression there. He doesn't like that that is the last memory she has of him.

"Done" the word is gruff and snaps Wally from the recent memory.

"Right." His own voice is horse.

"Being shot wasn't part of the plan." The tone is stoic but Wally can tell Batman doesn't like that something had been thrown off balance.

Wally shrugs his right shoulder, "Can't plan everything. Stuff happens."

It was his chest or Artemis' heart. At least he had a better chance of walking away and that was worth Batman's wrath.

Batman sweeps to his feet and takes a hold of Wally right arm and pulls him to his feet also. His legs buckle for a second, not liking his weight upon them and if it wasn't for the fact Batman didn't let him go he would have fallen onto his butt. That would have hurt like a bitch.

After a moment, when Wally is stable, Batman lets go like the human contact burns him. Maybe it does, that would makes sense. He cradles his left arm to his chest so it wouldn't pull the rest of his left side and send shooting pains and lifts his right arm to raise the cracked, useless goggles off his eyes. Blinking to let his eyes adjust, and looks down at his completely ruined uniform. Something bitter slides down his throat and he isn't sure why. This isn't the first Kid Flash uniform he has destroyed, it isn't a big deal, but even his denial happy brain knows that this is different.

"Here." His vision fills suddenly with black duffel and Wally needs to resist crossing his eyes.

"What's this?"

"Clothes. Get changed."

Wally suppresses a whimper at the thought of the movement needed to change (one does not whimper in front of the Batman) but does what he is told and takes to bag with his good arm.

He places the bag on the ground and zips it open. There is more than one set of clothes and Wally knows this is the bag he is going to be living out of indefinitely and figures he might as well get acquainted with it.

After he has changed, which had taken much longer than it normally would have and many muttered swear words (he certainly wasn't about to ask Bats for help) and trying not to think about how it is a little creepy how Batman knows his clothing size, he re-zips the duffel and turns to look back at Batman who turns at the same time.

"What about..." Wally lets the sentence hang and gestures to his suit that is a crumpled mess of spandex on the ground.

"I'll take care it." And moves towards him papers in hand.

"This is your new identity."

Wally takes the papers and reads the name. The side of his mouth twitches, he didn't know that Batman had a sense of humour, albeit a dry one. Robin had never let that titbit slip.

"You will be living with an acquaintance. She isn't a part of the superhero community."

"Does she know about me?"

"Only the cover story."

"Oh." He feels lonely already.

* * *

Wally feels out of place here in this town, it's much smaller than Central City and the thought makes him feel claustrophobic. The first week he feels so incredibly homesick he swore he was going to actually be physically ill, but he wasn't. He feels jumpy and fidgety and has never felt so damn close to something and so damn far away. The joke is he isn't even a complete state away from home. In any other situation it would be the easiest thing in the world to run there.

He tries not to show it to his host, a kind, older lady who has generously opened her home for him, allowed him to have her son's old room. It feels funny living in a deceased person's room and Wally has never been so glad to not believe in ghosts or spirits or hauntings.

His chest hurts from where the bullet penetrated his flesh and lodged itself above his heart. The stitches pull when he isn't being careful and blood can leak through sometimes so he wears square gauze taped in place over the top of the black thread, so his host won't see and get worried. He doesn't need her asking uncomfortable questions.

He starts at the local high school a week after his arrival. He doesn't want to make friends here, and he has to smother the hysterical laughter that bubbles in his throat during homeroom at that thought. Since when does he, Wally West, not want to make friends? It absurd, he loves people but he doesn't want to get attached. He doesn't belong here. He doesn't want this.

He misses his room and his stuff and his clothes, and he actually misses his school and almost, kinda, sort of misses the jerks that like to gang up and throw doge balls in ridiculous amounts at him during P.E. He misses his Mum's pancakes and his Dad reading the morning paper and joking with his Uncle over burgers after parole and hanging out with the team and Art- he chokes on that thought and looks out the window next to his new seat.

It isn't until after those first two week he realises it isn't the place he is longing for but the people he has left there.

* * *

He follows the news of Superheroes as best he can without actually being in the loop and it reminds him of when he was a kid and he had scrapbooks full of newspaper clippings about the Flash. The thought makes him grin.

He had thought it would be a long time before he saw any superhero in person again, months or maybe even (shutter) years. But he had been wrong and the present display proves it. If he believed in an almighty, powerful deity, Wally would have thought that he (or she) was messing with him.

It has only been two months, and he had been walking back to, well not home but his residence when commotion down Main Street had caught his interest.

This is why now his attention is captivated by his team, (no bad Wally, not your team, not now, not anymore. The team, just 'The Team'). He had always viewed the team working from the inside, as one of the pieces but he has to admit watching from the outside is kind of awe inspiring. Not that he would ever tell anyone that. He also knows that, them being a covert team means that them, fighting that creature in Main Street means that something had gone wrong. The monster is really big and really ugly and he hopes that it wasn't once a person.

He tries to stand towards the back of the crowd, he is pretty sure that there is too much chaos for any of them to notice him. (He knows he should just leave, Batman will kill him when he finds out he didn't leave) but he can't, he needs to know they're okay.

Miss Martian and Robin are bouncing the monster away from the gathered civilians, while Aqualad, Superboy and Artemis are attacking with everything but unfortunately for them so is the creature. Wally feels his own muscles tense and his reflexes start to kick in, his senses heighten and adrenaline begins to pump. He belongs there with them, not here on the sidelines.

He watches the whole team but he knows that his eyes keep being drawn back to Artemis, who lives up to her name sake with ease. He bites the inside of his mouth when the creature moves a large clawed hand back in a mighty swing where Artemis is and needs to resist the urge to run forward and knock her out of the way. At the last moment she dodges the blow and army rolls on the ground away from it, she kneels up and looks straight at him and he knows that she has seen him (crap, crappy crap, crap. Not good, not good. Abort, abort). There is a smudge of dirt on her chin, some of her hair has slipped from her signature ponytail and there is a rip in her shirt and oh god he misses her. He never thought he would admit that.

He can't move away, her gaze has stopped him and he freezes the memory of their last meeting flickers through his head at a speed that would make even Uncle Barry a little dizzy. Superboy and the beast land heavily a few short feet away from Artemis and she breaks their gaze. He uses it a chance to escape as if he had never been there, praying that Artemis would just shake it off like nothing had happened.

* * *

A week later his alarm goes off at the wrong time and he knows that he will just make the bell by the scrap of his teeth. Batman had known that he had hadn't left the fight straight away and had been dragged into an ally on the way back to his place of residence. He had yelped, but thankfully his voice hadn't cracked which had been new. He had been chewed out, about almost blowing cover, the encounter had taken all of ten minutes and the Dark Knight was gone.

Wally is brought out of his thoughts by an unsuspected grip on his wrist and being spun around to face someone. And when he glances at the person's face he has never been so thankful for his superhuman reflexes or his ability to, well, lie his pants off. He can tell straight away she hadn't really been expecting his face by the chocking expression that crosses her features.

"Wally?"

He widens his eyes just the right amount to appear naturally surprised, keeping the rest of his face as neutral as possible and his tone to match his expression.

"Uh, no sorry." Don't portray any of Wally West's personality. No flirting, no jokes, no familiarity. Make her question the truth in front of her eyes; you use to do it all the time at school, West.

He tries to move his wrist from her grip; she tightens it so her short neat nails dig a little bit through the material. He makes sure to take a step back when she takes one forward. People don't like strangers in their personal space.

"Why are you here? What happened? We searched everywhere for you."

Internally he cringes; he doesn't want her to ask those questions. The questions he wants to answer so badly. He doesn't want to know that his team, _his friends_, had looked for him. It just makes things harder. A thought lingers on 'did Uncle Barry look for me too?' but he dismisses it for the matter at hand. So instead he brings his eyebrows together like he has no idea what this strange girl is going on about.

"Listen, I don't know who or what you are talking about but I gotta go."

The ringing of the bell seems to distract her and he uses to opportunity to slip his wrist away and moves towards the entrance. With every normal paced step (he misses running, he misses the freedom it gave) away from her a heaviness in his stomach builds. He has to give her something, anything. With the impulsiveness he was once famous for, spins on a step but still moving in the direction of the school to see her start to move away. A look of confusion and disappointment clouding her pretty features and his heart clenches.

"I am sorry." He calls to her. But she doesn't know what he is sorry for. Not really.

* * *

He stands in front of them all as un-awkwardly as he can. He hates this stupid full face mask, it triggers his claustrophobia a little, he hates the full cowl, it is really hot underneath it, which makes him hate his red hair for being so identifiable, and he hates the tense atmosphere. He hates how they all look at him like he is some kind of intruder and Artemis looks at him like she hates his very presence and he wonders if this is how she felt when they first met in what now seems like a life time ago. It feels heavy to be mentally compared to someone else. He vows that if he can ever talk to her again as Wally he will apologise for how first treated her.

Batman introduces him and his intent on being here. He can't speak they will recognise his voice or at least Robin will. Batman has already suggested (demanded) that he kept speaking to a minimum, so he only raises a hand in greeting. It feels wrong, he doesn't like it. He isn't a quiet waver, he is loud, a talker. He misses speaking to them all. He misses snarking with her, he misses making her laugh (normally at him, sometimes if he was lucky with him.)

* * *

He affectionately drags a hand across the new items that fill the previously empty shelves. New souvenirs, they had continued his souvenir collection. The thing that most of them had rolled their eyes or scoffed at, at least once. He has honestly never been so touched in his life. Now if only he could tell them that. Before his thoughts could linger on the mementoes in front of him, wondering what belonged to what mission and why, a hand digs into his wrist jerking it away from the items he had been observing

"Don't touch those."

His eyes widen behind the lens of the stupid mask. He hasn't ever heard her use that tone before and he is practically an expert on her grumpy tones, she used to use them all the time with him, you know, when he was 'alive' but this one was beyond scary, the type of voice used by demons in horror movies.

When she releases his wrist he does the only thing he can do and raises his hands in surrender, he doesn't want her to suck his face off, and backs away a step to create distance between them. Bubbles of hurt inflate in his stomach and has to remind himself that this attitude is directed to some faceless person she doesn't know very well. He knows if they're positions had been reversed he would be acting in the same fashion. Something seems to leave her body.

"Just leave."

So he does, turning on his heel towards the door, nothing he does can make this better. But the same feeling he had in front of the school months ago returns, to give her something. When he is parallel with the door frame he places a palm on the smooth wood.

"I'm sorry."

And flees into the hallway, jogging away; in case she comes after him. When he reaches the end, he leans against the wall, suddenly very tired. Charades are exhausting to keep up.

* * *

He pulls himself up the ivy covered lattice and in to the bedroom window on the second floor, with relative ease. The relative, due to not use to moving around in this type of uniform and for a moment he wishes for his Kid Flash uniform, even if it is bright yellow (hey he had been twelve okay? It had seemed cool then.)

He sighs heavily and slides the window closed quietly and walks into the adjoining bathroom. Flicking on the light, he stares at the reflection in the mirror. He looks like one of the soldiers from Halo. Like a bad guy, no wonder the team keeps their distance, he must make then uncomfortable. Hell, he makes himself uncomfortable. Robin has started to piece it together he thinks, or maybe rather he hopes. Dick has pieced together stranger things right? M'gann keeps out of his head he knows, he had made sure to speed up his thoughts around her in case someone has convinced her to take a look. Just like Batman told him too.

And Artemis, no he does want to go there. It makes his chest hurt like he is having a claustrophobic inspired panic attack. The air between them is one of silent hostility. And they had being do so well before.

He presses his gloved hands on the sink, the strength suddenly leaving his legs. He is tired and hungry. Can't eat at the cave anymore, can't take off the mask. Stupid Batman, doesn't he know how hard it is to live a lie this big? (Probably does, it is Batman).

Bracing himself he reaches up to remove the mouth piece, after setting it on the sink he pulls the cowl back, and takes a long hard look at his reflection. He doesn't look like himself. Too pale, too thin, a look in his eyes that shouldn't be there.

He really does look like a dead man walking.

* * *

Her hands are ridiculously strong against his chest and he can almost, impossibly, feel the calluses of her palms trough the thin armour on his chest. He has to take step as she forces him backwards with the raw strength suddenly directed at him. There is something wild and unmoving in grey of her irises as she moves her hands from his chest and up to the sides of his face where the mouth piece meet the material of the cowl. He can tell by that look, that this time, he can't slip away, he can't lie his way out. She is going to get the truth and she will get it even if she has to rip him apart in order to get it. He is almost afraid but more flattered by it. Knowing he could mean that much to her.

She knows and she knows that he knows that she knows and, whatever the thoughts are spinning to quick.

Her nails have forced their way into the edge of the plastic and he knows she won't stop pulling until either her nails are torn from their beds or the concealment has been ripped from his face. For the sake of her fingers and his mask he tugs her hands away. After a moment she allows her hands to surrender but her eyes continue to burn into his even through the optic lens, daring him to walk away. He isn't even going to try. It would be just his luck to receive an arrow in the back, or in a much worst place on the male body.

He breathes out through his nose and places his hands to where hers were, slipping them up a little to finger the tiny clasps that held the mouth piece in place. He can do this without looking, even though most wouldn't be able to see them. With his forefingers he slips them open and the slight tension on the cowl gives way and the plastic comes lose into his hand. He watches her, take in the lower half of his face. Studying him mentally comparing, if he wasn't so sure of her impending wrath he would have grinned.

He allows the piece to slip to the ground, (he'll just pick it up latter, you know, if he can still move), and put his hands to where the spandex sits along his cheeks and begins to pull it backwards going slow because sometimes it pulls at his hair. She seems to be holding her breath and he isn't sure what to make of it. When the cowl he hanging down his back he lets his arms drop to his sides and watches her, watch him and waits for her reaction. He is expecting her to yell at him or her to hit him and call him stupid or a coward or something alike. What he isn't expecting is for the tears to start making tracks down her face. (Oh no, no no no no. Don't cry. You're Artemis. You aren't supposed to cry.)

A choking sounds emits from the back of her throat and before he realises what he is doing he pulls her into his chest and tucks her under his chin (hey, wait, since when is he tall enough to fit her under his chin?) he feels her dig her nails into his arms but doesn't say anything, he likes having her this close again. There is silence, but for the first time in a long time, Wally is okay with the silence. It belongs to moments like this with Artemis against him (not physically harming him with those stupid head smacks) her breath warm on his collarbone even through the fabric of his uniform.

After what seems like an eternity (but in a good way) she steps away from him, and he thankful to see that the feral look is gone from her eye and she seems calm again but just as determined as she was before and he knows that words need to be said. It will be nice to be able to say words to her again.

* * *

He takes a deep breath and the smile hasn't left his face in, well, hours. He is back at the cave but he feels freer than he has in almost a year. The cave feels like a second home again with people actually pleased to see him. And he feels comfortable being back in his Kid Flash uniform, putting it back on, had been like slipping on a second skin, the half cowl hanging down the back of his neck, goggles in hand.

He is standing in the middle of a circle in the combat ring, the centre of the impromptu reunion, questions being asked a million miles an hour. Robin is beside him digging a bony elbow into his ribs in good humour saying how he had figured out it was him months ago but had to continue playing the troubled best friend. Wally can read the lines between his best friends words and knows it is more than that, but only laughs and says he has to make up kicking his butt on the PS3, cause guys don't get mushy on each other, bros or not.

The computer drawls out Artemis' recognition code as the zeta tube lights up, but no one in the room pays it too much attention, (except Wally, but only a tiny bit. Like from the corner of his eye). She comes over after her molecules restabilise seeing the spectacle, but doesn't see him, not straight away. Something tugs in the back of his mind, a memory from long ago he just can't quiet plac-. She trips on some discarded boxes and slides to in front of the ring of people. Never mind he remembers now. Kaldur and Connor step aside breaking the circle of people and Artemis is in his full view. He grins and opens his mouth. Pay back!

"Wow Artemis, I knew you couldn't resist me but no need to fall at my feet."

He watches with great satisfaction when her head jerks up to look straight at him, her eyes widening before narrowing into what he calls the 'Artemis smoulder,' (Or at least he does now). She stands, pops a hip out and puts a hand on it and he knows he is about to be snarked at.

"In your dreams Wall-man, I had to duck and cover so your level of ego didn't smother me."

Ah sweet normalcy, oh how he missed it. He grins wider and she smiles at him (he missed that too.)


End file.
